she was family
by whowhatsitwhich
Summary: "Who's Sophia?" It wasn't meant to be a loaded question but the minute the words left his mouth, Aaron wished he could call them back. Implied Caryl
1. Chapter 1

By their third trip out, Alexandria's new recruiting team was finally starting to gel. They hadn't quite figured out each other's little tells but it was coming easier all the time.

Aaron liked to talk, covering any and every topic that came to mind. He ran the gamut of gossipy little jabs about certain residents of the Zone to anecdotes about his life from before. One night, it was how he and Eric met; the next, an amusing tale about how he ended up naked and alone beside the Niger River with no memory of how he'd gotten there. There was mention of sampling a local brew but the details surrounding it were understandably vague. Daryl snorted at the second and said the other sounded like a damned romance novel. He huffed out a laugh when Aaron said he'd considered writing a book.

It was on their third trip that Aaron finally felt alright asking his friend a few questions. He eased into it, knowing that a misstep would be fatal to their fledgling partnership. He kept it simple,innocuous, just idle chatter; the whole time watching from the corner of his eye to make sure he didn't overstep his bounds.

"You had a brother before?" A narrowed gaze and a tight jaw preceded the gruff yeah he got by way of reply. "Older or younger?"

"Older"

It was like pulling teeth. "And he taught you how to hunt and track?"

"Yeah."

Well that was certainly illuminating. "You were close to your brother?"

For that, he got an aggravated huff and an abrupt end to the conversation as Daryl rose and walked away from the fire to make a leisurely circle around camp. He didn't return until Aaron bedded down, only waking him when it was time for his watch.

* * *

Another night and another camp site twenty miles from the first, Aaron decided to give it another try.

"I was an only child," he volunteered. "Always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling though. Maybe it wouldn't have been so lonely."

Daryl stared into the flames, using a stray branch to poke at a smoldering log at the edge of the fire. It hissed as it finally caught, a harsh pop exploding the silence as the fresh wood blazed to life. "Merle wouldn't around much. He had shit to do. That's just how it was." He ran out of words after that, and then bounded to his feet for his usual nightly patrol.

Aaron watched him go, wondering to himself what it was going to take to earn the man's trust. That was a necessity if they were to continue on because without it, one or both of them could die. Alexandria needed Daryl as a recruiter so it was up to Aaron to figure out how to make it work.

* * *

"Who's Sophia?"

It wasn't meant to be a loaded question but the minute the words left his mouth, Aaron wished he could call them back. Stormy blue eyes burned behind the unruly fringe that had them partially hidden. His face was pale except for two crimson patches riding high on Daryl's cheeks. He white knuckled the bow stock until tendons stood out on the backs of his hands.

"I'm sorry," Aaron hurriedly interjected. "You talk sometimes in your sleep and that name….well, you've said it more than once. I'm sorry, Daryl, I didn't mean to pry."

It was several drawn out minutes before Daryl looked him in the eye, his expression taut with some unknown emotion that Aaron couldn't begin to decipher. "It's alright," he muttered. "She…uh…we lost her on the road just before we got to Maggie's farm. There was a herd and she lit out, ran into the woods with two of em right on her heels. I…I didn't get there in time." He stared off into the dark, his eyes glazed and lost in whatever memory those words conjured. "She was just gone."

"She was family then…yours?" Aaron's voice was full of sympathy and regret.

 _You ain't my problem. Sophia wasn't mine. All you had to do was keep an eye on her!_

Those words cut through him like a knife. The memory and the sense of loss that came with it was as fresh today as it had been the day that little girl wandered out of the barn. His hands tightened to fists; his stomach knotting as he tried to make room for the pain instead of getting buried by it. Daryl knew he couldn't let himself go back to that dark poisonous place again. Not now.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply; gave himself permission to feel, to grieve, and to wonder what might have been had things gone another way.

"Yeah," he heard himself say softly. "She was."


	2. Chapter 2

Home wasn't Alexandria's high walls or the neat rows of pristine houses behind them. For Aaron, home was the sight of Eric just beyond the gate, lips turned up in that impish grin that said he knew a secret and could be induced to tell if the price was right. Home was the way it felt to feel his arms wind around Eric's neck, his breath warm on the side of his face when he whispered, "I missed you." Home was walking toward their house, shoulders brushing and fingers twined together.

Daryl gave him a curt nod as he slipped past, pushing the bike as he headed toward the house he shared with his group. Despite being back in Alexandria, the man's back was taut beneath his angel wing vest; his jaw set and his knuckles white on the handlebars as he made his way down the street.

Hand in hand with Eric, Aaron stared after his recruiting partner and wondered what home was to Daryl.

"How'd it go?" Eric's voice cut through Aaron's musings.

He grimaced and then shrugged. "He talked a little bit but sometimes I feel like I'm tearing at a brick wall with my bare hands. Everything they went through to get here, it left a mark on him. He's got it together for the most part but underneath, he's still bleeding. They all are."

Eric paused, opened his mouth and then closed it again, his brows drawing in. Aaron recognized it as his 'I'm thinking' look and made himself wait until Eric chose to share his thoughts. "Deanna deemed them worthy to join the community and she's rarely wrong in the way she reads people. Michonne said they were almost out there too long. I think she's right. They aren't broken, not by a long shot, but whatever they faced is still close to the surface."

Their steps slowed and they squared off in the middle of the street, hands linked between them. This tendency to meet halfway was one of many reasons why they simply worked. Aaron relied on it, depended upon it, appreciated it when Eric shared his opinions. He often considered angles that Aaron wouldn't have seen on his own. He nodded and then continued to wait because it was obvious that Eric wasn't done.

"You need to talk with someone from his group, feel them out, get a sense of their history. He opened up a bit this trip. Maybe use that as a jumping off point?"

"Yeah," Aaron rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That might work. Which one though? Glenn was my first choice."

Eric caught his nod in the middle of the motion, stared off in the direction of the decorative lake, and abruptly smiled. He tightened his fingers on Aaron's and then jerked his head slightly. Aaron followed his gaze and saw Carol Peletier sitting by the water, arms resting atop her knees. Her plain white shirt was a stark contrast to the fussy floral cardigan neatly folded beneath her elbows. Her unguarded expression was so sad, it was painful to see.

"What about her?"

"You're thinking about when we saw them go off alone back on the road," Aaron stated rather than asked. "Before the barn." He didn't need Eric's acknowledging nod to follow his line of reasoning. That scene had sealed the deal for both of them back when they were following Rick's group, gauging whether or not to bring them in.

It was one of the few times Aaron had left his eavesdropping equipment in his pack. Instead he watched as the tiny woman with the huge rifle on her shoulder and the hunter who seemed like a volcano waiting to erupt wandered away from the rest. They squared off in a meadow, speaking too quietly to hear but their actions spoke loud and clear. A knife exchanged hands and the hunter seemed to crumble, his slumped shoulders and devastated eyes radiating grief like a beacon. The woman, her hands unspeakably gentle as she brushed his hair back and let them trail down his arm before pulling him down so that she could kiss his forehead.

"I can't let myself…but you…I know you. You have to let yourself feel it. You will." Her soft words carried through the still air to where Aaron crouched in the trees. He watched her turn and walk away without a backwards glance, heading back to the road. Aaron decided to follow the hunter instead, watching from a short distance away as the man sat cross legged under a tree and quietly fell apart. In that moment, he decided to approach them.

"You're right," he conceded. "I'll go talk with her now and then I'll meet you back at the house." Eric too his pack and slung it over his shoulder before kissing him lightly and then leaving him to it. He waited until he was out of sight before heading in Carol's direction. Wide blue eyes cut toward him and then through him as he knelt beside her, mimicking her pose.

"You're home," she observed, looking past him and toward the empty street. A hint of panic sparked in the depths of that bland gaze.

"He's okay. Last I saw, he was on his way back to the house," Aaron reassured her and then noted the way her shoulders eased and an almost to quiet sigh escaped her lips. "I was hoping that you and I could talk."

Carol's lips pursed, a small furrow opening up in her forehead as her fingers beat out an unsteady rhythm on her leg, betraying her unease. "Of course," she returned a bit too brightly. "Whatever I can do to help."

He drew in a deep breath and then plunged in, watching every nuance of her reaction. "It's about Daryl."

He wasn't prepared for the utter look of heartbreak that blossomed on her face before she caught herself.


	3. Chapter 3

_"Maybe that's what we do to the people we love: take shots in the dark and realize too late that we've wounded the people we are trying to protect." ― Jodi Picoult_

He drew a deep breath and then plunged in, watching every nuance of her reaction. "It's about Daryl."

He wasn't prepared for the utter look of heartbreak that blossomed on her face before she caught herself. "I thought you said he was okay," she ventured.

"For the most part, he is," Aaron fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket, avoiding her gaze. "It's just that when we're out there, we need to be able to count on each other. Things go wrong and people die." He caught her hand and grasped it gently between both of his. "I don't want Daryl to die. I don't want him to have to watch me die. I'll do whatever I can to prevent it." His fingers tightened on hers. "That's where you come in, Carol. I need you to help me."

"Whatever I can do," she repeated her earlier statement, her voice hoarse and exhausted, like she held the weight of the world on her shoulders. "Whatever you need."

Aaron released his hold and leaned back on his palms as he looked out over the water. Where to begin? "I asked him some questions, innocuous or so I thought, about from before. I thought it would knock down those walls, you know, turn them into bridges. That sort of thing. Told him I was an only child and how I'd always wanted a brother when I was younger." He grimaced when he saw her wince, her mouth firming to a thin, pale line.

"Merle," Carol mouthed the name, drew it out letter by letter. "Let me guess. He gave you one word answers and then stalked off to be by himself." She chuckled when Aaron nodded mutely by way of reply. "He was Daryl's older brother. Their relationship was..uh...complicated. It might be best if you let him tell you about Merle on his own time."

"So he lost his brother and Sophia," Aaron mused sadly, unaware of Carol's shattered countenance as he continued to watch the way the late evening light reflected off the surface of the lake. "No wonder."

"He mentioned Sophia?"

"Yeah, in his sleep," Aaron confided. "It was during our first couple of runs and we decided to trade off on watch. He was usually quiet but every now and then he'd mutter things. About the prison. About Judith. He called out for Sophia like she was lost and he was hellbent on finding her." He drew up his knees and imitated her pose. "It must be so hard, to lose a child like that. I can't imagine."

"He told you...he said that she was..."

"His," Aaron finished her sentence, his eyes dark and sad. "Did you know her?"

"I'm sorry. I can't do this now. I have to go."

"Carol," Aaron reached for her hand and then climbed to his feet to follow her as she hurried away. "Carol! Wait! I'm sorry but I don't understand. What did I say?"

She stopped, her back to him and her hands clenched at her sides. It looked to Aaron as if she were fighting back tears. He took a step closer but paused when she moved away, keeping a set distance between them. "She was sweet. She didn't have a mean bone in her body." He noticed that she absently plucked at a tattered hair tie when she spoke, one of three she wore around her wrist. "She was little and sweet and those two things got her killed. One minute she was there, crying underneath an old truck, the next..she was gone." Unbeknownst to her, she echoed exactly what Daryl said. She broke into a trot, not looking back as she hit the pavement and kept going.

Aaron watched until she disappeared from view, his thoughts tumbling over themselves with unanswered questions and a wary suspicion. Sophia. She lay at the heart of whatever was going on between those two. Daryl said she was his but the way that Carol reacted...there was more there than met the eye.

He didn't want to pry or poke at a tender wound. To do so would only cause them pain. Whatever this was...this thing...it had been allowed to fester too long. Sometimes the best way to cure such a thing was to lance it and let the poison flow out. Only then would you be able to heal.


	4. Chapter 4

_And suddenly, this word fills me with a brand of sadness…The kind of sadness you feel at the end of summer. When the fireflies are gone, the ponds have dried up and the plants are wilted, weary from being so green. It's no longer really summer but the air is still too warm and heavy to be fall. It's the season between the seasons. It's the feeling of something dying." ― Augusten Burroughs_

She fled without thought as to where she was going or what she would do when she got there. The late summer air lay heavy on Alexandria, thick and sodden with the scents of dying green. Sophia. Daryl. Family. Love. Loss. Sacrifice. Honor

 _"Is there anything you wouldn't do for the people here?"_

 _"No."_

She'd proven that assertion again and again though sometimes, it cost her. _You fight and you fight and one day you just change._ That's what she told herself, what she told Lizzie. _If you want to live, you have to become strong_. But for her, it wasn't if you want to live but rather if you want those you love to continue to live. She wasn't strong and her baby, her Sophia, had died because of it. And if anybody on this God forsaken Earth deserved to live, it was Sophia.

And Mika.

And Lizzie.

And Beth.

Judith. She would set the world on fire and watch it burn if that meant Judith got one more minute, one more hour, one more day. She would and that knowledge scared her. Burned and seethed in those dark places she'd locked away deep down.

Sam. She ached for the boy, longed to comfort him, smooth his hair back and tell him that everything was going to be alright. It was an urge written in her bones. One she had to deny if she wanted to keep going. She could not and would not allow herself to let that boy in. It would mean going back into the dark and she didn't know if she could do that and walk away unscathed.

Carol snorted, shaking her head as that notion presented itself. Unscathed. Right. She was ashes and ruins and the dying world perched on the abyss between summer and fall, too far gone to come back and uncaring that one slip might take her over the edge for good. Tyreese had seen and known and he had kept that knowledge a secret for her sake. All he asked in return was her silence, and God help her but she granted him that to spite herself. What was one more break to an already broken thing?

She looked up to see the house in the distance and slowed her steps, still unsure as to what she would do or say when she got there. _She was his._

 _You ain't my problem! Sophia wasn't mine._

Maybe Sophia hadn't been his by blood but she was his ghost as much as she was Carol's. Not by blood. Carol shook her head, denying that outright. He'd bled for her girl, come back bruised and battered with nothing but a doll to show for it.

Unbeaten, he'd dragged himself up and tried to go back out even though it meant additional pain for him. The only thing that stopped him was her own soft voiced admission that she was giving up. There was nothing out there to save anymore. Her Sophia was lost in the woods and Carol knew she was never coming home. No matter how many mountains he moved or flowers he brought her or stories he told to bolster her flagging spirits. She was gone and she would never come back.

A will-o-the-wisp chasing the spring. Young and beautiful and safe forever. His as much as hers. She would fight anybody that said differently.

* * *

He was there on the porch when she wandered up, elbows on his knees and a far off look in his eye. Daryl didn't look up when she sat down beside him and dropped her head on his shoulder. She felt him sigh and then his cheek came to rest on her crown, his breath warm on the side of her face. She wiped her palms on her pants and reached for his hand, braiding their fingers together and letting her thumb trace meandering circles across his knuckles.

The day ran itself out as they sat there, pale pinkish orange fading to purple gray. Fireflies began their dance on the lawn, little flickers of green-gold that chased each other back and forth through the ensuing dark. Maybe there was a lesson there if she'd take the time to learn it. This world…this dying, staggering, decaying world was what they had now…and happiness could not be found just by wishing for it. To be happy, you had to open yourself up to getting hurt.

Carol remembered something Michonne mentioned while they were out on the road, something Beth told her. _When you care about people, getting hurt is kind of a part of the package._ There was truth in that. Truth and maybe life as well.

"I love you," she heard herself say…quietly, reverently, as much of a vow as anything.

He shifted against her, turning his face into her hair and breathing deeply, weighing her words. Taking his time. Her heart was a stone and a helium balloon tangled up into one as he cleared his throat and his fingers tightened on hers. "I love you too."


End file.
